Rough Thoughts
by Sunburned-Stickperson
Summary: Desmond's loved running. It's always been his escape, but the new boy, who calls himself Salai, seems to want to change his mind.
1. Chapter 1

**Is it just me, or do my chapters seem to be growing longer?**

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><p>Desmond eyed the new young man as he walked in. "Hands down," he was beautiful with long red curls and designer clothing. He had brown eyes. He was beautiful. Desmond watched him talk to the teacher, and when the boy noticed, he smirked and winked. Desmond jolted from his ogling and looked back down at his book. Best not to claim what Ezio would—he couldn't compare. Still, when Salai walked past, he found his eyes trailing on his ass.<p>

"No," he told himself. "Ezio will claim him."

He frowned. It sucked having an older brother who was better at, well, everything. As he walked out of the room for first period, he felt the boy grab the back of his hoodie.

"There is no man who can claim me without permission, signore."

He watched the boy walk off to his first period class, sending a mischievous smirk over his shoulder to him. Desmond felt his stomach clenched, and he turned, scowling, no need for his hopes to get up.

He was disappointed to find that he had no morning classes him. When lunchtime rolled around, he was sitting at his table with Lucy and William—who were discussing something about schoolwork—and Rebecca and Shaun—who were listening to music together and generally being a cute couple. He often felt like the "third wheel." Until Ezio came over with a dramatic gesture.

"Have you seen the new boy."

"Just bone him, stupid prat," Shaun spit. "And don't tell us about it or I will gut you."

Ezio raised an eyebrow before wrapping an arm around Desmond. "I am telling you: I will have him before the day is out. Is he not gorgeous?"

"Whatever," Desmond said, rolling his eyes.

"You may be dense, brother, but I know that you will think he has been graced by the angels."

"Well, cross him off my list if you get to him first. He'll probably catch a disease."

Ezio rolled his eyes. "You all are your happy selves. I am glad to see it."

"We just don't care to hear about how many girls and boys have gotten to play with your wee-wee," Shaun sneered, and Rebecca laughed.

Desmond smirked. "Imagine Altair's reaction when he comes home with him."

Shaun smirked, too. "You must invite me over to see this. Shouldn't you be in class, anyway? You can't afford to kill any more brain cells by skipping classes. Juniors don't have lunch until next period."

Ezio scowled and stalked off. Desmond laughed.

"Is he really that pretty?" Rebecca asked.

Desmond scanned for him and gestured.

"Hot shit! You're sure he's a man? I saw him in the halls and wondered who the new girl was!"

Desmond nodded. "He pretty all right."

"I feel sorry for him if his first boyfriend is Ezio," Rebecca said. "He should hook up with you."

"Me?" Desmond raised an eyebrow. "Why? You've made it clear I'm not bringing anything to a relationship with your wonderful commentary."

"We can't help if you're a idiot," Shaun said.

"I don't know. You're a good guy," Rebecca said. "Stupid, but a good guy. And if he's gay, then you'd be great."

Desmond scowled. "Thanks for your uplifting comments. It's good to know I'm stupid."

"Hey, don't take it that way."

"How should I take it then?"

"Exactly how she said it."

"Why do I hang out with you guys?"

"Because we're the only ones who will talk to you."

Desmond scowled. "Fuck off."

"His intelligence shines through again. Astounding comeback."

Desmond sighed and rose, taking his tray to the trash as the new boy came walking over.

"Careful: it's shark-infested waters over there. Enter at the risk of death," he said, moving to the trashcans and dumping his tray.

He couldn't wait till gym as he shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked out of the cafeteria. He got his books together and went to his next class. The periods dragged by slowly, and when the bell rang for final period, he rushed to the locker room, undoing his backpack and pulling out his gym clothes. He had his pants halfway off before he heard another voice.

"For the last time, I am not interested. Leave me be."

"But, Salai—"

"I have heard of you, even from my first few hours here. I do not want you. Stay away from me, you asinine slut."

Desmond bit his lip to hold back a smile as he saw Ezio walking in, trying to woo the new boy.

He stuffed his pants in his bag and shimmied into the gym shorts. He was falling more and more in love with the new kid every second. He unzipped his hoodie and tugged it off.

"Are you even legal to get a tattoo?"

He looked at the new boy and frowned. "I don't think that concerns you, does it? Besides, your charmer over there's gonna die if you ignore him. And be ready. The seniors in this class are no better."

He tugged off his tee shirt. Ezio was fuming when he glanced at him.

"What?"

He tugged on the gym shirt and walked out. He was muscular, he conceded, but no match for Ezio. Altair was even better. He sighed, tapping the toe of his beaten up sneaker against the tile. Exercises went by quickly, and he could only sigh in relief when the teacher called him out to run while the others played some sort of football match.

"You've got a match this weekend. You're running every fucking day."

He nodded and started around the track. A few others joined him, also from the track team, but he didn't notice them, lost in his own world as his feet hit the ground in a steady beat. It was moments like this he cherished: where no one would tease him, and he was alone. It was only a matter of time before he ran away. He had his train tickets and had enough for motels from various jobs around the community he had found—his most notable being a bartender at a sketchy bar that hired him because he was just a kid and would bring customers. He even had a free motorcycle promised by a drug dealer who didn't want it. He had fixed it up and hid it from his family.

He was getting out of here. He was gonna leave everything behind: Ezio, Shaun, his mediocre grades—everything. He didn't know where he was going, or where he was going to end up, but he would be free at last. No more Altair and his high standards (Desmond had really liked bartending, but he'd never admit it to Altair), no more Ezio and his sex issues (he hated how every time he got a crush on someone, Ezio always swooped in first), and no more Shaun, Rebecca, and Lucy and their teasing (it didn't really bother him too much, but it was starting to effect him). He'd leave behind his brothers and their partners. He'd be free: simply free.

His feet felt like they weren't connected as he flew around the track, getting faster the further he lost himself in his own world. He felt as if he were flying as he ran, and he longed to see the world. He could almost feel himself take off from the ground as the breeze got him in the face. He could almost taste freedom.

And then the whistle blew to end class, and Desmond slowed progressively, making one more lap before he stopped. The coach gestured him over.

"You're a greater runner, Miles. I bet we're gonna take the prize from Angel's View high this year."

He smiled softly: at least one man had faith in him. "Thanks, Mr. Dunigan." If he was still here by the end of the quarter, that was. He planned on running once the weather was slightly warmer. He jogged into the locker room and stretched a bit before stripping to go to the showers. That was the nice thing about taking gym last block: they had time to shower after school, instead of rushing to next period. And Mr. Dunigan didn't mind at all.

He turned the water on and let it soak into his skin. It was searing hot, but he didn't care. He was relaxing under the warm streams of water when he heard the last person he wanted to hear.

"I take it you are walking home today?"

"Yeah, tell Altair I'm showering, since you guys never leave any hot water anyway."

Ezio laughed. "I will. Should I mention how you hate how he and Malik and Kadar fuck in the tub?"

Desmond smirked and looked at his brother. "Yeah. Tell him I hate how he takes so much time making love to those assholes."

"You mean dicks—I can guarantee they are not the assholes."

Desmond laughed: for as much as he could hate his brother sometimes, he could certainly love him. "Yeah, and tell him he should be setting a better example for me."

"Oh! And guess what else?"

He shook his head.

"I got the pink hair dye. We will have the best April Fool's Day yet."

"Did you get the tub to freeze Altair's boxers in?"

Ezio gave him a grin and a thumbs-up before disappearing with a, "You have the greatest pranks, brother." He laughed for a while longer before he relaxed into the shower. Perhaps he wouldn't leave too soon. His older brothers were the best thing he had, and despite Ezio's slutty ways, he had never actually told his brother who he had a crush on.

But dying Malik's hair would be fun, and harassing Kadar in the showers would be even better. However, he was going to get the most fun from freezing Altair's boxers. He squeezed shampoo into his hand and lathered it into his hair, releasing a soft sigh.

"Your brother is a real ass, yes?"

He jumped and spun around—it was too much to ask for a relaxing shower. Salai was sitting there at the edge of the showers, picking at the elastic on his boxers. He cast a side glance at Desmond.

"He does not know when to quit."

Desmond scoffed and turned back around, rinsing the shampoo from his hair. "Try living with him."

"Do you hate him?"

"No… and yes. But that's his job as my brother, I suppose."

"Tell him to stay away from me, or I will knee those precious jewels of his."

Desmond snickered. "Okay."

He turned his attention back to the shower, picking the bar of soap out of the plastic baggie. The warm water was soothing. He heard the new guy leave after a couple of minutes, and he sighed in relief. That boy had been gorgeous, and if he had stuck around for too long, he would've had some problems. He washed down and turned the water off before rubbing down with a towel. He tossed it aside and looked for his clothes—only to find two sizes too small designer jeans and shirt laying where his clothes had been, with a note that said in beautiful handwriting:

"I think you will look much better in my clothes. Besides, you have a very alluring smell, so I am taking them. I will give them back later. 3 Salai, your little devil."

He scowled and did his best to fit into the tiny clothes—and damn, was his crotch ever restricted. He remembered why he wore loose jeans. He tugged on the shirt and walked out awkwardly, trying to get used to such tight clothes. Eventually, he had a walk down and stepped out of the locker room.

"You look absolutely ridiculous."

He looked to see Shaun and Rebecca standing there.

"I dunno. I think he looks hot. I never would've guessed he was that big… or that ripped!"

"He's walking around in women's clothes that are much too small—"

"That damn new kid stole my clothes." He held out the note.

Rebecca howled with laughter after reading it, and Shaun looked horrified.

"Have you considered a restraining order?"

"I'll hire a lawyer tonight, if my dick doesn't fall off first." He wriggled awkwardly in the jeans and scowled as Rebecca kept laughing. "These pants are so fucking tight!"

Rebecca grinned lecherously. "But I bet you get the glances of every girl you walk by, and every guy you pass."

Desmond grabbed his crotch and wiggled again, looking really uncomfortable. "Shaun, do you have any extra clothes?"

Shaun's nose wrinkled at the sight before him. "No, I'm afraid not. Would you like a ride home?"

"No way, is that pity I hear?" Desmond gaped, his hands flying to his mouth.

He heard a giggle, and looked to see two of his classmates whispering with large smiles. He turned away.

"Please, before I humiliate myself further."

"Dessie," Rebecca began as they walked from the gym, "those clothes are far from humiliating."

He flushed when she gave him a thorough eye-fucking.

"Don't listen to her: she's being ridiculous."

"I know what women want. And it isn't you, Shaun."

"Really then? I think your 'hotness' scale must be broken badly if you're still with me. Or did the other men think you were too masculine for them?"

"Haha."

As they passed through the halls, he tried not to meet the eye of anybody. These clothes were so embarrassing. Eventually, a senior girl sidled up to him.

"You know, Ezio has my number if you're looking for a good time. My name's Angela Garrison."

She blew him a kiss and walked off. He was bright red.

"See, Dessie? I told you. You should have more faith in your image."

"Just get me home," he groaned.

As they walked out, he found Salai sitting in his clothes on the hood of Shaun's car, sweater hood up and filing his nails.

"Hey! Asshol—"

"Hey is for horses, but grass is much cheaper, yes?"

Salai was giving him that same devilish smirk as in the hallway.

"Fuck you. Give me back my clothes."

Salai laughed and drew the hoodie up to his nose, inhaling deeply. "Why? They smell good. Will you strip for me in the parking lot?"

"Fuck no! You're crazy!"

He smiled charmingly. "Perhaps. Your clothes are comfortable."

"Yeah. Because they're loose."

He spread out on the car hood, looking vaguely like an actor in one of the porn films they had replaced Kadar's movie selection with last year. Malik had been mortified when he thought his brother was watching porn—but it proved Malik liked chick flicks, and earned Ezio and Desmond each fifty bucks from Altair. Desmond scowled as Salai looked him over. He wiggled in the jeans again, uncomfortable.

"Get off my car, you damn weasel!" Shaun shouted. "And leave Desmond alone before he files sexual harassment!"

Salai slid from the car and waved as he walked off, giving him one last, good look before he snapped a shot on his cell phone. Desmond popped in the car.

"Twenty bucks if you knock his shoes off. Gorgeous or not, run him over."

"Naw, Dessie," Rebecca said as she climbed in the front seat. "I think he'd be good for you. You need to stop being so cynical. He might help."

"I'm going to lose my dick because these pants are so fucking tight. I don't have the right to act grouchy?"

He was sprawled out uncomfortably in the backseat, praying Shaun wouldn't get caught speeding as he tried to get him home: he had just gotten his license. Finally, they pulled up to his house. He popped out and grabbed his backpack.

"Thanks Shaun."

He ran in, looking over his shoulder to wave as he hobbled up to the door. Rebecca gave Shaun a quick kiss on the lips, and he smiled as he waved. Shaun smirked and pulled out, waving once. He opened the door, seeing the kitchen through the thin hallway. He peeked into the living room to his immediate left to see Altair and Kadar lying on the couch, cuddling.

"Kadar?" he asked.

The young man looked at him.

"I need your help. Please."

Altair growled, but Kadar smiled as he turned and hobbled up the stairs to his room. It was small and well fit to his needs. His bed was a twin, and the bookshelf he had was sparse. His closet was relatively empty. It was all good if he was going to run away. Kadar came popping in.

"What can I…"

He turned to see Kadar staring at him, wide-eyed.

"Help me out of these pants."

Kadar closed his mouth and nodded, looking concerned. He walked over as Desmond undid the button and zipper, pulling out his dick and sighing in relief. He grabbed the hem and started squirming, and soon, he and Kadar were locked in a battle of pulling off the pants. Between grunts, kicks, and squirms, he told Kadar what happened. Halfway through, Altair came up and leaned on the doorframe, smirking as he watched the two struggle.

"And," Kadar grunted, "Ezio wants him?"

"Yeah," he kicked the air, "but he wants me," another grunt, "apparently."

"You should play hard to get, make Ezio mad."

He looked at his oldest brother. "I don't that crazy-ass mother fucker in my bed! He'll glue my nuts to my leg to when I break up with him!"

Kadar yelped and tumbled backwards as the pants came off. Desmond grunted when he smacked his head against the wall from the force of the pants coming off. Altair was still smirking. He rubbed the back of his head and scowled.

"Man, that kid is crazy."

"I don't know: maybe let Ezio have him?" Kadar suggested.

"He doesn't want Ezio!"

"This is like those soap operas you made me watch," Kadar said, looking at Altair. "Lots of drama with no resolution."

Desmond pulled off the shirt and threw it on the ground. "I don't… If only he wasn't so pretty." He pulled on a pair of sweatpants. "Thanks, Kadar."

Kadar nodded. "No problem, Desmond."

Ezio peeked in. "What's going on?"

"That new boy at your school stole Des's clothes and left him with his."

Ezio stepped in. His room was getting crowded. His older brother scowled and picked up the clothes. "You fit in these?"

"Hell no. Kadar was helping me take them off."

"You should have seen it," Altair said as he walked down the stairs to greet Malik when the sound of the front door was heard.

Desmond sighed, and Ezio sat by his brother, wrapping an arm around his brother. "Desmond, you must be careful with a nutter like him."

"I know. I'm gonna go out for a run. Get the feeling back in my legs."

Ezio laughed as Kadar ran down the stairs to hug his brother. "I will keep a look out to make sure he is not stalking you."

Desmond nodded. He couldn't wait to get out of this town. He got up stiffly and put on his ratty sneakers. By the time he got downstairs, Ezio had a pair of binoculars in his hands and the phone nearby. He laughed, and Ezio grinned.

He said hello to Malik and walked out: perhaps he'd run to his bike in the woods. There was a sprawling forest behind his subdivision that he hid the bike it. Perhaps he'd even go for a ride. He ran back in, grabbed his license, a muscle tee, cell phone, and some cash, and stuffed them in his backpack. Desmond took to the streets, jogging off with his bag a comfortable weight.

He eventually got off the streets and started down the path in the woods. This led to another, more obscure path, and another, and another, until he arrived at a small locked area. He hopped the fence and padded in, pulling off a camouflage blanket to reveal a clean, new looking, black motorbike. He knelt by it and ran his hands along the seat. He couldn't wait to take her on the road. Desmond found himself smiling as he worshiped his bike: this was his ride out. And then, if he ever had to run again and couldn't bring his bike, he had train tickets specially bought with no date and no specific train so he could hop on the next one. Those had taken a month's pay from the bar, including tips.

He sat on the bike and ran his hands over the handles. He could all ready feel the wind. On the other side of it sat a sleek black helmet. He grinned: he loved druggies—especially when he could rip them off since they were higher than a kite.

After several more minutes, he covered her back up and hopped the fence again, jogging off. He ran into the heart of the city before he heard his cell phone go off. He dug it out and popped it open.

"Idiot, let me talk to him!"

He smiled: it was Malik.

"Desmond!"

"Yeah?"

"Your idiot brother forgot to write chicken on the shopping list. Can you pick some up? It's what we were going to have for dinner."

He laughed. "Yeah, I've got some cash on me."

"See!" he heard yelled. "I told you your brother would have some! Sometimes I wonder if he's the only one who's smart in your family!"

He shook his head. "Yeah, I'll pick some up. What kind?"

"Breasts, if they have any good ones, or thighs."

He nodded. "Got it. See you in half an hour."

"Goodbye."

He heard Malik hang up, and he stuffed his phone back in his backpack, pulling a muscle tee from his bag. Pulling it on, he walked over to the grocery market and entered.

"Hello, Desmond.

He nodded at the cashier. He called himself "La Volpe," and more than once, he had helped Desmond by just being in the right place at the right time. He was going to miss him when he ran away. He walked back to the poultry section and looked for the best chicken he could. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see a man with blonde hair and beard. He had freckles across his cheeks.

"I overheard the cashier's greeting, and I couldn't help but ask. Are you Desmond?"

He nodded, examining the man closely. "Yeah, what of it?"

"I am so sorry on Salai's behalf for stealing your clothes. He's such a troublemaker."

He looked surprised. "Are you his dad?"

"No, I actually adopted him. He was a problem child before, too. I'm so sorry. I'll have your clothes by tomorrow."

He shrugged. "As long as I get them back, I don't care."

"I am so sorry."

He shook his head. "I should've been on the lookout."

"I'll have them for you. I promise."

He nodded. "Okay, that's cool."

He picked out the breast and trotted over to the cashier. As he was rung up, La Volpe said, "The weather will perfect by the end of the month."

"What?"

He looked at the old man, who had a knowing look in his eyes. "La Volpe knows. The weather will be perfect by the end of the month."

Desmond stared at him as he bagged the chicken.

"It is the perfect time to go."

He jolted—he had no idea how he knew his plans. He had been so careful. Nevertheless, he grinned. "I'll keep that in mind."

He took the bag and waved. La Volpe gave him a knowing smirk as he left. He walked home slowly, enjoying the nice spring day. When he walked in the door, walked straight into the kitchen and handed the chicken to Malik, who was in the middle of an argument with Altair. He paid them no mind as he head to the little eating area, and hopped down the small step into the living area. He saw Kadar reading a book and settled beside him, leaning against the man. Kadar smiled and wrapped an arm around his waist.

He settled against the man and yawned. "Have a good run?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

The two were good friends, and Kadar was, at times, the only thing that kept him here. They sat in silence until Malik called them for dinner, and he took his seat at the small dining area. The rest of the day passed without much hassle, and the next day came too soon.

When he sat down for lunch, Lucy looked at him. "Becca told me about yesterday."

Desmond scowled. "I'm gonna pound that kid if he pulls something like that again."

William snickered. "Pound him where?"

Desmond frowned. "I'll punch you if you don't shut up."

"And the brute speaks again."

"Shut up, Shaun. I don't want his attentions. He should go back to Ezio."

"But you thought he was gorgeous."

"Pretty or not, I'm afraid for myself."

"The boy is a nutter," Shaun said. "I'm sorry, but if you date him, I'm going to laugh at you."

Desmond sighed. "Why wouldn't he want Ezio's affections? I mean, the guy's a hardcore flirt and romantic when he wants to be."

He jumped when he felt arms around him. "I think you should not go for Salai. I will get him yet."

He looked up to see Ezio frowning at him. "You can have the crazy. I don't want him."

Ezio smirked. "Good."

"What are you doing here?"

They turned to see Salai, with a tray—dressed in Desmond's clothing, he noticed with a frown—scowling at Ezio. "Shouldn't you be in classes?"

Ezio smiled charmingly. "Caro mio—"

"Don't give me that bullshit."

They all looked slightly surprised.

"I don't want to date a manwhore, thank you."

Desmond bit his lip to contain his smile. Perhaps he wasn't so bad if he was willing to call Ezio out.

"I am not a whor—"

"My apologies: a slut. You do not get paid. Correct? It is the sluts that aren't good enough to be paid."

Shaun roared with laughter, and Rebecca was laughing beside him. Lucy looked horrified, and William was grinning. Ezio looked downright appalled, then scowled. "If you'd let me, I would show you what you are missing out on."

"A bunch of illnesses, I am sure. I will pass, thank you."

Salai plopped down next to Desmond as Ezio stormed off. He seemed unaffected, and when Shaun stopped laughing, the British student slapped the table.

"Congratulations, mate. You're welcome in our little group."

Salai smiled beautifully. "Thank you."

Desmond shook his head. "Wait! He's crazy! Why—"

"I have extra clothes to change into after gym today. I will give them to you then."

"Why did you steal them in the first place?" Rebecca asked.

He smirked, giving Desmond a mischievous glare. "To make sure I would have to see you again."

"That was clever. I like this boy, Desmond. I approve."

"I don't want your approval, Shaun."

"I don't care if you want it or not. I think you should date him. He has an impeccable taste in clothes, an air of cleverness, and tells your brother off. I think you should date him."

Salai grinned. "I am glad I have your approval."

Shaun shrugged. "Don't think too much of it, mate. I'm only in this for myself."

He raised an eyebrow.

"You know Ezio is bound to raise Hell, and I do enjoy a good bit of drama."

"Then I'll make sure you're included in it," Salai said, shrugging.

Shaun scowled as Rebecca laughed, grabbing her boyfriend's hand. "You asked for it, Shaun."

"I'll make it worth the trouble," Shaun snapped.

Salai smirked. "I'll look forward to it."

Desmond covered his face with his hands. Just until the end of this month, he reminded himself, then he wouldn't have to deal with these crazies, no more Ezio, no more Malik and Altair arguing. He shook his head and started eating. He jumped when Salai wrapped an arm around his shoulders and leaned in close.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Up close, the boy looked even prettier. He swallowed thickly. "I'm simply getting to know your personal bubble."

Desmond scowled, leaning back. "I don't have one. Ezio took care of that."

Salai hummed and leaned in closer. Desmond's scowl deepened. "Get away, freak."

The arm around his shoulders found its way onto his leg. "Are you sure? Your pupils are dilating."

He pushed Salai, who yelped and fell from the chair. He heard Shaun snickering behind his hand.

"A wonderful response."

"Shut up, Shaun."

"I can see your brother's intelligence reflected in you." Shaun smirked.

Desmond snarled as Salai got back up and dusted off. "At least he isn't like you. Then, I'm afraid I'd have to kill him."

"Whatever," Desmond said as he finished eating quickly and left the two snarkers.

He couldn't wait to leave. The rest of the day passed quickly, and he found himself changing in gym, more than ready to run. Ezio came storming in.

"I forbid you from taking this man home. If you date him, I will castrate you."

"Altair seemed rather fond of him."

"That man has no more taste in partners than a toad."

Desmond laughed. "What if I really wanted to?"

"I forbid you," Ezio spat, waving his hands wildly. "He is not worth you."

"If I went by what others thought I was worth, I would never be good enough for a relationship."

Ezio pulled back. "What? Says who?"

"Says Shaun, and Rebecca, and Lucy, and—"

"Do not listen to them, brother. You have your merits—but Salai is below them."

He felt Ezio wrap a hand around his shoulders and poke him in the chest. He looked his brother in the eye. "And now I speak from the heart, Desmond. You do have your own merits, but high school is the time to discover such things. Do not lose heart—you will find them."

He smiled softly. "I think I have all ready. Running seems to be my talent."

"You have more than just that, Desmond. Intelligence may not be yours, but you have more than just running."

Desmond forced a smile.

"You have no idea how good at running I am," he whispered when Ezio stepped away.

He changed, looking at the door when he heard someone whistle as he changed his shirt. He peeked to see Salai watching him change. He flushed and turned around, finishing quickly and walking out.

"Leave my brother alone," he heard Ezio say.

"What your brother does is not your business. If I choose to pursue him, I will pursue him."

"He is my brother."

"You are just sore because I wounded your pride earlier."

"No, I am worried because you are an ass, and you have no respect for him."

"And how would you know?"

Ezio scoffed. "Have you even seen what you are wearing? He has told you to back off."

Salai raised an eyebrow. "You are just sore because you cannot wound me."

"My pride and my care for Desmond are two separate things."

Desmond jogged out, not wanting to hear the rest of the argument. He was pretty sure they were separate. His brother, while a slut, did respect him and Altair. After exercises, he was glad the coach sent him out to run before either of the two could approach him. His feet were flying as he ran, and he didn't realize the class was over, lost in his own dreams of living on the streets, until he ran into Ezio. He propped himself up on his hands.

"Well, that's one way to stop you."

He grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, I was thinking."

"About what?"

"About… Running."

Ezio chuckled and sat up as Desmond climbed off. "At least you're dedicated. Will you be showering here?"

"Um…"

"I called Altair. He's on the couch until further notice."

"What for?"

"He laughed at Malik for crying at _Fried Green Tomatoes_ with Kadar."

"What?"

"Some tear-jerker chick flick. So, there's no hot water left. He filled the tub and threatened to drown him. Kadar found them wrestling on the bathroom floor, and Altair was losing."

Desmond sighed. "I'm showering here then."

Ezio nodded and offered a hand. He accepted and walked with his brother to the locker room, and into the showers.

"Do you want me to stay and guard your things?"

"No, I'll keep them on the other side of the showers, so I can see them."

Ezio nodded. "See you at home, brother."

"See ya."

He pulled his things from his backpack and stepped into the shower, stripping down. After he had his things situated so he could see them, he turned on the water. He let his eyes slip closed as he rubbed himself down with the soap, and he sighed, relaxing in the warm water. After he washed off, he reached for his shampoo, only to find it missing.

"Looking for this?"


	2. Chapter 2

He whipped around and saw Salai standing there with his shampoo in boxers. His shampoo had been in the shower stream.

"How are you not wet?"

He smirked. "I have my ways. Why do you not shower at home?"

Desmond scowled. "My family, and I use the term lightly, uses it all before I get home. Altair does it on purpose, and Malik doesn't realize it until I come home."

"Why on purpose?"

"Because Ezio and I prank him all the time. Can I have my shampoo?"

"Let me wash your hair."

"That's just creepy."

He smiled. "I won't give it back otherwise."

Desmond scowled. "I should file for harassment."

"But you won't. Sit down and let me wash your hair."

"Right here."

"Right there."

He did as he was told and watched as Salai moved behind him and knelt, squirting the soap into his hand. He sat at the edge of the water's stream and jumped when he felt Salai touch his head.

"Relax. You are too tense," Salai practically purred in his ear.

He slowly relaxed as he let him work the shampoo into a thick lather. He actually groaned pleasurably—perhaps this is why Altair always showered with the two brothers. He felt his head loll forward and heard Salai chuckle quietly.

"Does this feel good?"

He hummed in response as those hands slid down to his shoulders and began massaging. He groaned again.

"You are too tense, Desmond. Do you never relax?"

"N'er had the chance."

He could hear Salai smirk but didn't particularly care at that moment as he let the beautiful boy give him a shoulder massage. He felt himself going limp the longer it wore on. Eventually, he was almost asleep, those glorious hands working the knots from his neck, when he thought he heard Shaun.

"Desmond? Are you in here?"

He could hear him walking closer through the haze of sleepiness and utter relaxation.

"Bloody—what the Hell—"

"Quiet," Salai commanded. "You'll wake him."

He didn't bother to try and tell him he was awake when those nails—perfect nails—began scratching his back. He hummed appreciatively.

"I—you—what the Hell are you doing to him!"

"Giving him the worship you have so dutifully failed to give him."

He was in Heaven.

"I swear, if you're pulling something—"

"I am simply giving him a back massage. I haven't tried anything, have I?"

Desmond simply sighed contentedly.

"Yes, well, as convincing as that answer is, if you pull any sort of crap…"

"Yes, yes, you'll kill me or cut off a limb or force me to have tea and biscuits with you, blah, blah, blah."

It was several minutes more before he felt Salai pull him back and wash the soap from his hair. Desmond didn't know someone could be this gentle, but he was beginning to realize why Altair enjoyed showering with others if he got this kind of treatment.

"There, all done."

He hummed and leaned back as Salai went to move. He heard the boy chuckle behind him. It was several more minutes before he had any strength to move.

"Th'nk you."

He felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist and a chin on his shoulder. Lips against his ear whispered, "I think we should make this a regular thing."

"No," he muttered. "Then it will lose its… Thing."

Salai laughed. "Then you will let me do it again?"

"If I'm still around." He cursed letting himself get so relaxed

"What do you mean?"

"I can't tell you that."

"You're not going to commit sui—"

"Fuck no."

"Then what are you doing?"

"I can't tell you that."

"You're running away, aren't you?"

He was silent.

"Why—surely you have a good life here?"

"I don't want to be here. "

"Why not?"

"That's my business."

"You can't leave, Desmond."

"Says who? What are you gonna do? Tell someone? All I have to do is go. I'm waiting for a good time."

"What will your brothers think? Lucy? Rebecca? Shaun?"

Desmond rose, knocking Salai over in the process. He rinsed down and turned off the water. "I'm doing them all a favor. Trust me. Shaun wouldn't give a flying shit. The only reason he'd care is because he'd lose his target, and Rebecca wouldn't notice. Lucy is always busy with William, and Ezio will be too busy with his latest conquest to notice. Altair's a fucking sadist. He thought watching me squirm in those pants of yours was hilarious."

"I think you are being over—"

"It also means a chance to start over for me. No more failing grades, a job I can like—I'm going to be a bartender, you know. No more harassment because I'm barely passing any class. I'm not smart; I'm not artistic; I'm not 'strong.' I can't do much, but I'll do what I'm good at: running."

He had dried and dressed, and was shoving everything in his backpack again when he heard Salai rise. "That is ridiculous. You underestimate yourself."

"No, I don't. Give me one thing I'm good at besides running."

"I still don't know you."

"And you never will. I'm leaving, and that's that."

"Why do you doubt you aren't good—"

"Because I'm not. Anyone will attest to that: my teachers, my friends, even Malik and Kadar think I'm not going anywhere, and Kadar is my best friend. Okay? Just leave me alone. I don't want to think about them."

He left Salai his towel as he walked out of the locker room and jogged home. When he finally got home, the sun was setting, and he sat on the steps of the porch, not quite wanting to go in yet. When the door opened, he saw, in his peripheral vision, Altair sit beside him with a plate of food. As the man ate, he was glad his brother didn't talk much. There were no words passed between them for the longest time as he watched the sun go down.

"Has Desmond come home yet?" he heard as the door opened. "Oh! There you are! We were starting to get worried. Your dinner's getting col—"

"I'm not hungry."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

"Did you get another test back today? You usually act like this when you get an F."

"No. I'm just not hungry."

"You really ought to eat more. It might help you focus—"

"I do focus, okay!" Desmond exploded, wheeling around as he shot up. "I just suck at school! Is that so hard to believe? You've seen me study for hours and go to tutoring, and it still doesn't work! Just get off my back! I'm not going anywhere in school!"

He pushed past Kadar and jogged up to his room, grabbing his keys and some money he had stashed in one of the few books in his room. He stuffed it in his bag after pulling everything out and zipped it up, shoving past Kadar and Malik as he jogged out of the house.

It wasn't until he had pulled off the cover to the bike and the helmet he saw Altair had followed him. He stiffened as Altair walked in from the picked lock gate and squatted by the bike, examining it.

"Where'd you—"

"Crack addict. One hundred dollars and broken after I finished with that bartending job you hated."

"You were illegal."

"I know. I fixed her up. She runs pretty smoothly now. I don't drive her a lot yet."

"Take her to school. You'd one-up Ezio."

He looked at the bike. "I don't want to risk her."

"License?"

"Yup."

"Insurance?"

"Not really. I'm not on your plan, but I still drive her occasionally."

Altair ran his fingers over his baby a moment longer before rising. "Real or fake?"

"The plates are fake."

"I'll have real ones tomorrow for you."

"In between your classes?"

"Yes. And insurance."

"Are you sure?"

"Bring her home."

Desmond raised an eyebrow but met his gaze when he looked at him. They stood there, gazing at each other for the longest time, Desmond with a disbelieving frown and Altair, passive. Eventually, Altair looked at the bike.

"She's a newer model."

"I know. I put a lot of research into her. I wanted to see how much of a deal I was getting. Newest model for one-hundred bucks, and all she needed was a couple of wires fixed. She's a Suzuki Hayabusa."

Altair ran his hands over the handlebars. "248 miles per hour."

Desmond let his jaw drop. "You know about the Hayabusa?"

"Twelve thousand dollar deal."

"He was higher than a kite."

The black paint seemed to blend in with the night as it fell around them. Desmond shoved his hands in his pockets and gazed at it lovingly as Altair stood with him.

"Show me."

"What?"

"Show me its speed."

"We can't both get on her."

"We can."

He wasn't until he had his helmet on and Altair pressed against his back that he believed him. He turned her on and pulled out, going steadily faster until he hit the highway to get home. He floored it. He leaned forward more, feeling the adrenaline course through his veins as he hit one-fifty. He briefly wondered where the police were, but stopped caring when he hit two-hundred. He was whizzing through a throng of cars at top speeds, and he couldn't care less. Eventually, when he realized he had gone right out of the city, he slowed and stopped in a gas station. He pulled off his helmet, smirking. He was surprised at the almost happy smirk Altair had.

"I like her."

"So do I. I'm surprised we didn't hit the police."

"Even the gods enjoy a bit of fun."

He chuckled once and led it over to fill her up, scowling as the prices rose higher and higher. When it clicked full, he grumbled as he pulled his backpack to fish out his money. He paused when he saw Altair step up and pay for it with a credit card.

"Where'd you get that?"

"Dad."

"Before they left for their business trip?"

Altair nodded and finished paying before climbing back on. Desmond put his helmet on and drove home, stopping in the driveway. He was surprised to see Malik, Kadar, and Ezio waiting on the porch. Ezio's jaw dropped when they stopped in the driveway light and he saw the slick black bike with red detailing. Kadar looked surprised, and Malik scowled.

"Just what was with the fit earlier, Desmond?"

Altair frowned at Malik. "Leave him alone."

"Oh no," Malik began, walking toward them, "I'm not letting him become a reclusive asshole like you. What happened with the fit earlier?"

Desmond looked away, scratching his neck. "I've just been upset lately. It was a onetime thing, okay?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"You don't need to see your school—"

"I'd rather be fucked upside down hanging from a flag pole before I go visit him."

Malik shook his head. "And where did you get the bike?"

"From a druggie two years ago. Fresh off the line for one hundred dollars."

Malik smirked. "Good job."

Altair guided the bike into the garage before shutting it. Malik wrapped an arm around Desmond and guided him past the stunned Ezio and into the house.

"Your food's in your room."

"No more questions?"

"You'll speak when you're ready, whatever your problem is."

He hightailed it upstairs and into his room, where, sure enough, there was a plate of hot lasagna waiting for him. He flopped on the bed, completely ignoring the food, and stared at the ceiling. He closed his eyes and let the feel of the bike rush over him once more, the wind and the speed and how running on foot was just never enough. He'd have to keep the fake plates if he was gonna run.

He actually hesitated for a moment about running before shaking his head and sitting up, going over to the plate and wolfing down the food. He wasn't changing his mind now: he'd put too much into it. They'd be back to their normal selves when he did get his test back tomorrow from history.

And sure enough, when he got his test back the next day, Shaun spent all lunch berating him for the questions he got wrong, and all he could do was eat quickly and wait for the bell to ring. He said nothing to Ezio or Salai when he changed for gym, having gotten back two less than satisfactory grades in math and English. And he was in such a piss poor mood that not even running helped him.

After changing and letting Altair pick him and Ezio up from school, he handed the grades to Malik, who scowled and lectured him on how he needed to pick it up or else he'd get into a college even worse than Altair's—who was salutatorian of his class. He went straight to his room and spent all evening there, gazing out the small window his room had. He didn't listen when Kadar came in and told him that Malik was just worried, and how he was worried, too, and Desmond shrugged him off. Better no bonds than any bonds if he was going to "skip town."

Ten more days until he ran away, he decided.

Saturday was a blur—he vaguely remembered placing first in his meet, but the trophy did nothing other than make his coach happy. At least someone was. Salai was at the meet, and he looked concerned when he met Desmond's gaze. Altair got him the plates, and he hid the fake ones in his room. He got insurance or something close to it.

Nine more days until he ran away.

Sunday was nothing, really. They didn't attend church, so he slept the day away and ignored Kadar's and Ezio's questions about what was wrong.

Eight more days until he ran away.

Monday rolled around, and it wasn't until lunch he actually snapped from the stupor. He felt Salai's hand in his.

"You still don't look good. You've been distracted for a while now."

"No, that blank look is a permanent feature on his face. You'll get used to it eventually."

Desmond scowled and turned to his food: it all tasted like cardboard. It probably was. Salai snarled. "Shut up. You have no idea what he's going through."

"It's not like you do, either," Desmond murmured as he rose, throwing away the majority of his food and leaving.

He missed Shaun's shocked expression, and Salai's upset look. He passed through the day on autopilot, and it wasn't until after he had showered from gym that he walked out of the showers in a towel to get his clothes that he saw Ezio, Shaun, Altair, and Malik all there, looking somewhere between worried and mad. Kadar was off to the side, looking thoroughly upset. Salai was leaning against the lockers, looking rather passive.

"What's this about you running away?" Malik started. "You're an idiot to think you can live by yourself."

He rolled his eyes and walked over to his stuff, but Shaun stepped in front of it.

"Listen to us, you bloody tit. Do you need me to clean your ears for you like your mum?"

"Look, whatever Salai said is false, okay? Just gimme some room, and I'll be fine. I mean, seriously, you're going to trust him? The guy stole my clothes and probably stalks me, and you trust him?"

"Desmond," Kadar started, his voice soft, "when he mentioned it, it all started to make sense."

"What did?" he sighed, folding his arms. "Can I at least have my pants and boxers?"

Altair was the only one who moved, and he tossed him his pants. Desmond sighed and changed in front of them before sitting on the floor, one knee bent and resting on his hands. He waited: there was no way he'd initiate any talking.

"All of it. You've been hinting at running away this entire time, haven't you?" Ezio scowled.

Mimicking a British accent, and failing horribly, he said, "Congratulations, you aren't as dumb as I thought you are. You only had to have someone spell it out for you."

He laughed when Shaun scowled and Ezio crossed his arms.

"I don't appreciate that, thank you. You were bloody awful."

Desmond rolled his eyes and bunched his towel up, using it for a cushion under his head. He looked when his backpack was thrown to him. Altair was standing there, a step in front of the rest, looking at him with an almost caring look.

"When do you plan on leaving?"

"Seven days."

They both waited for the roar to die down. He didn't break Altair's gaze once.

"Keep in contact."

He sat up, watching as Altair put his hands in his pockets. He countered a punch from Malik and sidestepped the swipe from Shaun.

"What the Hell do you think you're saying, you uncaring prat?"

Altair walked over and helped Desmond up after he put on his backpack. "He can do it."

"He's going to walk straight into a gang and get killed, is what he'll do!" Shaun yelled.

Altair shrugged and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Malik clenched his fists.

"You shouldn't be encouraging this, you idiot!"

Altair raised an eyebrow at Malik's words.

"He won't even have a high school education."

Desmond looked at the ground and shuffled his feet. "Not like I have one now," he murmured. He sighed and straightened up. "Look, you guys don't have to worry, okay? I'll be out of your hair: no more worry about my grades, no more finding things to berate me. I'll do what I do best."

"Running," Ezio deadpanned. "You're going to run."

Desmond shrugged. Altair patted his shoulder and started guiding him out, but Shaun, Malik, and Ezio blocked their path.

"You can't run from everything," Ezio said.

"I can run from what I can."

"I still don't get why—"

Altair snarled, and Desmond moved out of his grasp. Shaun and Ezio stepped back. There was only one other time he had gotten this mad.

"As the only legal adult here, I say he can go."

Malik pulled himself up. "You're not the only legal adult—"

"You don't even have your citizenship papers yet, transfer student."

Malik was fuming, and they were standing toe-to-toe.

"He's smart enough he can keep in contact if he wants."

"It's clear he's not going to!"

"Then that's his choice."

"What if he fucks up bad!"

"Then we welcome him back. I should know mistakes, Malik."

"Our duty is to guard—"

"Is to teach him. And mistakes are the best teachers."

"Tell that to the new car your parents had to pay for and all of our medical bills!"

Altair's lips twitched. He was boiling. "Let him make his own mistakes. He will learn more than listening to you," he jabbed his chest, "run your mouth with insults and condescending advice."

"My advice is sound! You would not know wisdom if it hit you in the face! We were in the hospital and rehab for months, Altair!"

"I know that, Malik. I was there with you. There is only so much a man can take before he breaks."

"I have yet to break you, you pigheaded fool!"

"You have already broken Desmond. Just look at him."

Malik's mouth opened, but after a few seconds, he shut it, and his eyes flickered over to him. Desmond was standing there, watching, uninterested in the fight.

"All of you, just look at him."

Desmond had moved to the bench on the far side of the locker room and sat there with his chin in his hand, staring distantly ahead. Somewhere during their argument, he had sat down and started dreaming about where he would run to. He could go to the mountains or the desert. It would be hard to track him in either location. He'd have to re-hide his bike so they couldn't take it away.

"Let him 'fly the coop.' If he needs to return, he needs to return."

Malik frowned, staring at Desmond. Shaun seemed to be studying him closely.

"He, at the very least, needs to graduate high school."

Desmond sighed and hung his head, not hearing what was said as he wished to get out of the locker room. Perhaps he should put his shirt on. Kadar came over, and he looked at the man when he placed a hand on his knee.

"Desmond, are you depressed?"

Desmond scowled. "If I were depressed, I'd be thinking about suicide, not running away."

"It could just be another form—"

"God-fucking-damnit!" Desmond shouted. "I'm not fucking depressed! I want out of this school, out of this house, and out of this life! I fucking hate it here, you always riding my ass about how worried you are, Malik always lecturing me about how I need to get my shit together, Shaun always berating me about stupid I am! I know how stupid I am, all right? I want to get away from you, from Malik, from Shaun, from this life!" He snarled and shoved Kadar out of the way, slugging Malik when he tried to block him. He didn't even have his shoes on.

He started running, a full out sprint, through the hallways and onto the sidewalk in front of the school. He ran the entire way back to his house and grabbed the keys from it, peeling out of the driveway as the others pulled in. He had his helmet on, and he had a full tank. He didn't know where he was going. Eventually, he found himself sitting on a bench in the park the next town over. Not nearly as far as he wanted, but he just needed somewhere to calm before he collected from his bank account and scrammed.

"Oh, my, we meet again."

He looked up to see Salai's father standing there, a warm smile on his face.

"What the Hell do you want?"

The man looked surprised, but smiled and sat next to him. "I always feed the birds here at sunset. That is, if you don't mind me joining you."

"Rather you than your kid."

"Has he been giving you trouble?"

"Shit loads."

He watched the man pull out a small paper bag.

"My apologies."

"It's not your fault."

"What happened?"

He studied the man before him for a little bit, taking in the blonde hair and the freckles on his cheeks. He had beret on and a paint-splattered collared shirt. His blue eyes had wrinkles at the corners of them—signs of a hard life. Before he knew what he was doing, he was spilling everything to this man whose name he didn't even know. But the time he was done, he had told him everything.

The man was silent, and Desmond watched as he reached into the bag and pulled out a small handful of breadcrumbs, scattering them to a small group of pigeons that had gathered. After they were eating the small amount, the man said simply, "There is a lot to learn from a bird."

Desmond was pissed he had just spilled his entire problem to the man, and this was all he had to say. "Really?"

"Yes. For example, did you know that until they hatch, the mother sits on the eggs, yet she does not break them? Do you know how it is achieved?"

Desmond furrowed his brow. "Uh… She doesn't sit fully on them?"

"No, here, let me show you. Stay here."

He watched the man rise and walk over to a statue with a bird's nest, picking out an egg. He brought it over and placed it in his hand so the pointier end was sticking between his middle and ring finger. He looked at the man as he stood behind him.

"Now, gradually apply pressure."

"I'm gonna break it!"

"Gradually apply pressure."

Desmond looked at the egg and started to do what he was told. He frowned as he kept applying more pressure, waiting to see it crack. Finally, the man stopped him and took the egg from his hand, returning it to the nest and coming to sit by him again.

"The mother sits on the eggs like that. You cannot break an egg like that easily."

Desmond hunched forward, watching as he scattered more crumbs.

"The mother knows this. She also knows how to take care of her babies."

Desmond raised an eyebrow as the man held some crumbs in his hand. The birds fluttered to him. There were cardinals and sparrows on his arm and fingers, eating from the palm.

"However, even parents make mistakes. Sometimes, they push their babies out of the nest too early, and they fall and die."

He was transfixed by the birds in his hand.

"Most, nevertheless, go on to become full fledgings. They know when their babies are ready to leave the coop."

"Humans are different from animals, though."

"Yes and no, Desmond." He met the man's gaze. "It's quite clear your brother—Altair, was it?—has faith you will learn, no matter what you do. He was the one who raised you, correct?"

"Yeah. My mom and dad are always away."

"See? He knows you. He trusts that you are ready to fly away if you like. That doesn't mean he won't miss you, though."

"I don't see how any of them will miss me. I'm just a hindrance, really."

The man chuckled. "Birds often keep their fledgings for a time after they learn to fly. Consider yourself at this stage now. I believe that Altair knows this, and he knows that you have to taste freedom. You have to taste flight. Perhaps you will succeed, and you won't return." Desmond watched as he placed a handful of crumbs in his hands. "I would stay a while longer. Perhaps you can arrange for travel during vacation by yourself. It's clear you can manage; although, it sounds like you haven't bonded with him enough. Try reaching out to him and see what results are yielded. As for your problem with Shaun, that is simple enough: find a new friend."

He tensed when a young chickadee landed on his thumb, chirped a few notes, and pecked at the bread in his palm. He saw Salai's dad smiled.

"You will learn to fly eventually. You are still a fledging, though. I would trust Altair—he sounds wise."

"He crashed his car several years ago and injured his two best friends and himself severely. They just recently stopped physical therapy."

The man flinched. "Yes, such wisdom comes only from mistakes."

Desmond watched the bird eat from his hand. The man threw more crumbs out to the small flock at their feet. He churned through what the man had said.

"And as for Malik and Kadar, it's clear they want you to succeed. Perhaps you should be evaluated. If there is truly nothing wrong, I live here, and I would be more than happy to work closely with you and let you stay the weekend for help, since you have helped Salai."

"You live here, but you drive him to school every morning?"

The man smiled. "Yes, I do. I graduated there."

Desmond hummed, watching the little bird eat from his hand. For the briefest moment, he wanted to crush the bird. He was so much bigger. They sat in silence, feeding the birds, and he thought about what the man had said. After the bird had finished eating, it sang him a song and flew away. When the moon had just fully appeared, he heard soft footsteps approaching them, and he looked to see Altair.

"I figured you might be here."

"How?"

"I run here often when Malik is mad at me, but I figured you should cool down first."

He scooted closer to Salai's father to let Altair sit beside him. They sat a while longer in the cool night air, Desmond leaning back against the bench and Altair hunched forward. After another hour or so, the man rose, yawning.

"I must get back home; I'm afraid. I hope my advice came in handy, and you will take me up on my offer if you need it. You can get my number from Salai."

"Thanks, sir," Desmond said.

"My name is Leonardo. I will talk to you later. It was a pleasure meeting you, Altair."

He nodded, and Desmond watched him walk off. Altair said nothing, just sat with him until it was midnight. Finally, he rose, stretched, and looked at Desmond, who was resting his arms on the back of the bench.

"Are you leaving?"

Desmond stared him in the eye, thinking carefully. He bit his lower lip and chewed it as he weighed his options with what Leonardo had said. He sighed and shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

He took Altair's offered hand and couldn't help but smile at the arm that went around his shoulders and the smirk that graced his oldest brother's lips. They walked back to the motorcycle.

"How did you get here?"

"Walking."

Desmond nodded. "Wanna ride with me?"

Altair smirked and got on as Desmond started her up. They flew down the streets on the Hayabusa, and he felt the wind whistle around him. The starry night seemed to twinkle brightly as they rode back, and when he pulled in, he stepped out of the garage to stare at the sky. Altair stepped beside him and looked at the stars a while before turning to him.

"There is a conference in the capital this weekend. We can book a room."

"No—"

"And while Malik thinks we're at the conference, we can tour the city."

Desmond whipped his head around to look at his older brother, who had a smirk on his face. Desmond grinned. "Yeah, let's do that."

Altair nodded once, and they were quiet for a while longer.

"Our crash wasn't because we were drunken seniors."

"Huh?"

"It was because we wanted to run away."

He looked at his oldest brother, who tilted his head slightly to look at him. When the door opened, he glanced to see Salai running out.

"You didn't run!" he exclaimed, halting in front of him.

Desmond shrugged. "I met someone who talked some sense into me."

Salai laughed and hugged him. Compulsively, he returned the hug. When he pulled back, Salai stood on his tiptoes and grabbed his head, kissing him. Desmond chuckled into the kiss, but returned it.

He saw Altair pad up to the door and stop Malik from exiting. Placing a hand on his arm to stop him, Altair leaned in and kissed him gently.

"He's not going anywhere, Malik. Relax."


End file.
